


Super Bowl Sunday

by headcanonftw



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-05
Updated: 2008-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-16 08:57:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headcanonftw/pseuds/headcanonftw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zim has cooked up a most ingenious plan to conquer and enslave Earth for The Almighty Tallest - but there's a catch.  Crack!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Super Bowl Sunday

The plan was ingenious. The most ingenious he had contrived yet. But there was just one problem, just one agonizing little detail that would ruin it all. So the plan, effectively, was useless. 

Zim had come to Earth thinking conquest would be simple, but it had proven nearly impossible, due to certain unlucky moments in his mission and that horrible, meddling Dib. 

He had been on the planet for nearly six years now, and all he had accomplished was to create a supercomputer that controlled his entire house, the robot-parents, and GIR (to some extent anyway) so they could never be the reasons for his failings. 

According to Earth time, he was fifteen years old, which meant that he was facing the daunting task of learning to drive Earth’s pathetically inferior vehicles. Zim didn’t care much for the idea and therefore didn’t apply himself to it, but Dib, in all his meaty, human need for freedom, relished the undertaking, and was now threatening to use it against Zim and his mission. Zim rubbed his head as it began to hurt. That Dib…

Zim went back to his computer, trying to see if he could find some way around that one damning detail. His plan was to use his supercomputer to tap into the satellites in control of all Earth’s military systems. Once in control of those, Zim and GIR would pack up and fly into the planet’s orbit, and from there would safely detonate all the world’s nuclear bombs, annihilating the majority of the planet’s population. It was absolutely genius, and there was no way anyone, even Dib and his Earth cars, could stop it once it was started. 

The detail that would undo the whole plan was simple, not something that would matter on any other planet in the universe, but on Earth it was huge: the corruption of the satellite signal would, for one hour, completely halt all television signals as well. As Zim had observed in his years of study on this filthy little planet, both television and MacMeaty’s were essentially linked to human existence. He knew there was no chance of destroying the Earth if either thing were affected in the process. This was why Zim was banging his head against the wall of his lab. There was nothing he could do. 

He decided to take a break while his computer went over the plan another time looking for a way around the TV signal. He rode the elevator up to the top floor and through the trashcan and walked into the living room where GIR was, invariably, watching TV. The flaw in his plan would probably destroy GIR, too, as much TV as he watched. As soon as Zim entered the room, GIR’s head spun to face Zim and shouted “ANGRY MONKEY!” 

Zim cringed. “That horrible monkey…” he grumbled as he glared at the screen. “GIR! My absolutely genius and completely evil plan has a flaw! Help me fix it!” 

GIR looked up at him blankly, then shouted, “I want chocolates!” and pointed at the screen, where Valentine’s Day chocolate was being advertised. 

Zim shuddered. “No GIR, no chocolate! Sugar will make your craziness even more crazy than before!” 

GIR started to cry and Zim groaned. Defeated, he rose up on his spider-legs and sat onto the couch beside his robot. “I need some way to distract the humans while I switch off the TV. But how? Their eyes are glued to that screen so much their brains have gone soft with pixilation!” 

Just then, GIR stopped crying and shouted, “Super Bowl Sunday!” He was pointing at the TV. 

Zim looked up, intrigued by the robot’s outburst. “Super Bowl? A bowl that is super?  But why?!” He watched the screen intently. 

“What are  _you_  gonna be doing on Super Bowl Sunday?” the TV man said. “Doing chores? Saving the world? No! You’re gonna be watching the Super Bowl! Super Bowl!  _Super Bowl_!” He exploded. 

“I’m gonna be watching the Super Bowl!” GIR exclaimed. Then he, too, exploded. 

Zim shuddered at the noise the commercial made. Then, in a flash, it came to him, an ingenious solution to his dilemma! 

“GIR!” he shouted. The small robot reformed above him and fell on his head. 

“Yes, my lord?” GIR saluted, eyes momentarily glowing red before he discovered a bug on the floor, which he promptly followed under the couch. 

“GIR, I have discovered a solution to my evil plan! This Sunday is the perfect day to begin it—not only will the sky be clear to facilitate my computers’ control of Earth’s satellites, but it is also Super Bowl Sunday! No one will be watching TV! They’ll all be too busy with the worship of this strange, superior bowl! It’s foolproof!” He stood and raised his arms triumphantly. “ _I am Zim_!” 

:::

Mysterious Mysteries was reporting. Dib was sitting on the couch in his living room, trying to ignore Gaz’s intense glare (he didn’t know what he’d done, but she’d been glaring at him for an hour). Suddenly, a breaking story flashed across the screen. 

“Earlier today, the entire world raided and destroyed the home base of a horrible space creature who tried to connect to Earth Satellites and detonate nuclear weapons. It was an ingenious plan, but it all went wrong when the satellites knocked out coverage of the world’s TVs. Many attribute this blackout to the Giants’ inexplicable victory.” 

Dib nearly fell off the couch from screaming. “They caught him! They finally caught him! Take that Zim! Your Earth-terrorizing days are over!” 

The announcer continued. “The alien has been released on the condition that he not bother TV satellites again. The world is thankful to have its cable restored.” 

Dib was later hospitalized from heart failure. 

“…curse…you…Zim!”


End file.
